


Change Your Mind

by sleepypercy



Series: Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4052284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepypercy/pseuds/sleepypercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jensen shows up at Jared's wedding, Jared knows there's no way his former college roommate is anything but trouble. </p><p>The problem is, Jared's never been able to turn Jensen away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change Your Mind

It’s the third toast of the night, and Jared’s got his hand clasped around his bride’s tiny fingers, smiling his way through another half-drunk congratulations, soaking in the perfection of this day. His brother had just wrestled the mic away from Chad, swapping out embarrassing drunk-college stories for embarrassing stupid-teenager stories. Like the time Jared woke up on some girl’s front porch in a pair of speedos and a mohawk.

Jared’s looking out at the crowded tables in front of him, laughing along, when he catches sight of a familiar set of lips smirking from around the rim of a champagne glass.

He can feel his shoulders stiffen up, his body immediately on the defensive because there’s no way in hell that Jensen Ackles being here is anything but trouble. Trying to hide his surprise, Jared takes a quick sip from his wine glass, letting the subtle flavors wash over his tongue. He thinks back to the last night he’d spent with his dick up the guy’s ass, the room thick with the smoky smell of weed and sex. Jensen was always too pretty for his own good, all freckles and impossibly long eyelashes as he writhed back on the bed, gasping and demanding. Bowlegs wrapped around Jared’s hips, ankles hooked to press Jared closer, deeper. 

God, the guy loved taking cock.

It’s been a year since they’ve seen each other. Jared had stupidly thought Jensen was behind him for good, just faded memories of sweat-soaked skin and alcohol-full lips. He’d done his best to forget all the times Jensen had stumbled into their dorm stoned out of his mind, crawling into Jared’s bed, kissing him everywhere and begging Jared to fuck him. It’s almost surprising how little Jensen has changed, how the smallest movement of his mouth, the arch of his eyebrow, can turn Jared instantly hard.

Jared turns away and carefully avoids looking at Jensen again.

Thankfully, his dark-haired bride doesn’t seem to notice anything’s wrong. Just grins at him intermittently, squeezing his hand and bouncing on her feet as they go through all the wedding-day rituals. Pictures, cake-cutting, dancing. When Jared feels a pressure against his bladder from all the wine, he presses a kiss into his new wife’s hairline and promises to be right back. She’s standing in the middle of four excited bridesmaids, planning the bouquet-toss, so Jared figures she’ll be alright on her own for a while.

He goes upstairs for some privacy, heads into his changing room after he’s done peeing, collapsing in his chair and loosening his tie. Taking a few deep breaths, he tries to slow his pulse. 

“Long day?”

His back immediately stiffens, and he twists around to face the couch where Jensen’s sprawled like a languid, lazy cat. Bow legs kicked open and chin tilted up to bare his long, freckled neck.

“What are you doing here?” Jared growls out in annoyance. “I don’t remember inviting you.”

“I’d assumed my invite had been lost in the mail,” Jensen replies with a smirk, running his fingers across the smooth edge of his tux jacket. “Although I did come as a plus-one. Got my own table card and everything.”

Jared wants to put his thumb on Jensen’s lips, wipe the smugness right off them like cheap lipstick stains. 

“Saw you with Jeff,” Jared grunts out, not at all jealously. “You his date?”

Chuckling, Jensen tilts his head to get a better angle to look at Jared while his lashes flutter. “We fuck sometimes, if that’s what you’re asking. I sucked his dick before the reception. Told him I’d be his arm-candy for the night.”

Trying very hard not to growl and still feeling like he needs more air, Jared yanks harder on his tie until it slips out of its loop entirely, which, _fuck_ , he hadn’t meant to do, especially since he doesn’t even know how to re-tie it, he had to get his brother to do it for him in the first place.

Cussing under his breath, Jared throws the tie on the floor, but somehow Jensen’s crossed the room and is reaching down to pick it up before Jared even registers him getting off the couch.

“Calm down, cowboy,” Jensen says, clucking his tongue and throwing the silk material back around Jared’s neck. “S’your wedding day. You should be over-the-fuckin’-moon, basket-full-of-puppies happy.”

It’s difficult to concentrate with Jensen’s hands sliding across his neck, body close enough that Jared can smell soap and mint and skin. Jared had wanted Jensen from the minute they’d met as college freshmen, thrown together in the same dorm and connecting so completely and instantaneously that they decided to room together all four years. Jensen had been so deep in the closet, however, that Jared hadn’t dared to say a word, not until Jensen came home drunk and high one night, sliding himself into Jared’s lap and demanding to be fucked.

It had been one of the hottest nights of Jared’s young life. It also spurred several more, with Jared pounding Jensen against every surface of their dorm room until the RA threatened to kick them out over the various noise complaints from their hallway. Of course, the only hangup was that Jensen didn’t want to talk about it afterwards, always told Jared it had been a mistake and he barely remembered coming home that night. If Jared hadn’t been so utterly and completely in love with Jensen, he would have stopped. But he never seemed able to turn Jensen down, not when the guy turned into a major slut for Jared the minute he got any kind of cognitive-impairing substance into his body.

Jared is just working himself up to pushing Jensen away and wandering back to his bride when Jensen falls to his knees in a move so familiar and fluid that Jared’s dick perks up in a years-old Pavlovian response he can’t curb.

“I knew it,” Jared says grimly, trying to hold back a low groan when Jensen leans in, rubbing his lips against the erection straining the front of Jared’s dress pants. “Fucking knew you were gonna try something like this as soon as you showed up.”

“Doesn’t feel like you’re complaining,” Jensen says, lips dragging against the side of Jared’s zipper as he looks up. His breath is hot, and Jared can feel the moist heat through both layers between Jensen’s mouth and his erection. “I missed you, Jared,” Jensen adds, fingers unzipping Jared’s pants and pulling him out through the slit in his underwear. “Gonna give me one last fuck? Give me something to remember you by?”

“Yeah,” Jared says, voice husky. There’s no way he can back out now, not when every nerve in his body remembers how it felt to be cock-deep in Jensen, so tight and hot and perfect that Jared never wanted to leave. He tries to tell himself that this is just something he needs to get out of his system, one last fuck before he quits Jensen entirely.

He’s not sure how much he believes that.

Pinching Jensen’s jaw in his fingers, Jared digs in with his thumb until Jensen obligingly opens his mouth, pink tongue flicking out. Rocking his hips forward, Jared slips his cock right between those plush lips, gasping as Jensen’s tongue starts working around the head right away, curling around the shape and pressing into the slit.

As soon as Jensen opens up his throat and starting working up a rhythm, Jared’s hand drops from his face. He takes a step back, leaning against the wall, hips jutted out as Jensen continues slurping messily.

When his cock’s as hard as it can get, Jared pulls Jensen up off the floor, kissing him hard and licking up the bitter taste on Jensen’s lips.

“Take it off,” Jared slurs, dizzy with lust and guilt. “Everything. And bend over the couch so I can see all of you.”

Jensen strips quickly, not even bothering to put on a show like he usually did. Back when they used to hit up a few bars together, Jensen barely ever made it home fully dressed, often started taking off layers after his third shot, crowd egging him on as he’d shed shoes, socks, jacket, shirt. The bartenders generally stopped it before it got too obscene, but Jensen had lost more than a few pairs of shoes and jackets around town, tried to borrow from Jared until Jared learned to grab his discarded clothing before they went back to their dorm.

By the time Jared stumbles over to Jensen, he’s completely bare; pale, freckled skin all laid out, stomach curling over the armrest and ass tilted up like he’s just waiting for Jared to shove in. His ass wiggles impatiently as Jared stares and he can’t help slapping it, watching the muscles jump in response and smirking lightly at the red, hand-shaped flush that appeared.

However, before Jared can press his dick inside, his eyes catch on the tattoo on Jensen’s hip, and he sucks in a quick breath through his teeth. He hadn’t been sure Jensen would still have it, thought maybe he would have either tried to remove it or cover it up. But it’s still there, just two tiny letter stamped along the side of his pelvic bone: _JP._

Kneeling on the floor, Jared pressed his mouth against the letters, grabs onto Jensen’s thigh as he traces the shape of them with his tongue and bites at the corners until there’s a red mark around them.

He’d convinced Jensen to get them one night when they’d both been buzzed on good beer, walking home from a Jazz and Brews Festival, their hands in each other’s pockets as they tried not to fall off the sidewalk.

Jensen had been the one to suggest getting Jared’s initials tattooed on him, kept bringing it up while getting fucked, telling Jared he wanted his name on his ass.

When they’d passed by a tattoo parlour, Jared had remembered Jensen’s request, asked if he wanted to do it right then. And since Jensen did pretty much whatever Jared wanted when he was drunk, he’d quickly agreed.

Jared had thought it gallant of him not to get his name scrawled over Jensen’s freckled ass, instead just asking the tattoo artist to do his initials, right on Jensen’s hip. Although, even just those two letters had stirred up all kinds of possessive feelings that had surprised Jared in their intensity. He’d planned on getting a set of Jensen’s initials on his own hip, but he’d forgotten about that plan as soon as Jensen’s tattoo was done and he’d been so turned on that he had to drag Jensen back to their dorm as quickly as possible.

Afterwards, he’d smirk to himself every time Jensen stepped into the shower, knowing that his roommate would have to run his soapy fingers across those letters and face the reality — even just for a second — of what they did every time Jensen got drunk or high.

As Jared sucks that skin into his mouth, doing his best to leave a bruising hickey, he can feel Jensen’s hips rocking into the couch, rubbing his dick against the smooth material. Jared lets his hand wander further back, sliding around Jensen’s hip and slipping a finger right between his cheeks.

It’s already wet — slicked up with lube and puffy against his finger, and Jared can’t even pretend he’s offended at how sure Jensen had been tonight. Instead, he jumps back up to his feet, lining his dick up and sinking straight to the hilt. Jensen groans into the couch cushion while Jared works himself into a solid rhythm, hands clamped tight around Jensen’s hips, fingers pressing into the already-bruised tattoo.

He’d almost forgotten how Jensen always lost himself in the sensations, squirming back and gasping every time Jared sunk deep into him, whimpering when Jared pulled back too far. When Jared starts chasing his orgasm, pounding in harder and harder, Jensen’s stuttering out a series of high-pitched gasps, hands gripped tight into the cushions of the couch.

Jensen spurts into the armrest just before Jared pushes in hard one last time, both his hands wrapped around Jensen’s belly and his mouth clamped onto the back of his neck, salt flavor bursting on his tongue.

They both roll over onto the couch to catch their breath, Jensen leaning into Jared, cheek resting against his arm. Jared gives himself about ten seconds to recover before he gets up from the couch and collects his clothing, shoving them back on and trying to hurry because he’s been gone for too long and there’s no way he hasn’t been missed.

Jensen offers to fix Jared’s tie for him, ghost of a smile on his lips because he’s well-aware of Jared’s inability to tie it for himself. But Jared shakes his head because he’s not sure he can handle going back to his bride if Jensen touches him one more time.

In the end, Jared goes back to his wedding party, leaving Jensen on the couch, still naked and too beautiful for words. He hates how much hold Jensen has over him, the way the guy can drive him crazy and do things he’d never do for another person. Jared wishes he could hate the guy for it, leave him behind and never look back. But that’s not the way this works.

He doesn’t know how long it’ll be before Jensen shows up again. A week, a year, a decade. But he knows that whenever Jensen does call again, Jared will always answer.


End file.
